


but you've lost all your past

by iidiiot



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Rated teen for language, blood and wounds tw, i still can't tag to save myself, referenced character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iidiiot/pseuds/iidiiot
Summary: technoblade thought the best way to keep his dead brother safe was to let him continue pretending.he was wrong.title from 'losing face' by 'wilbur'.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Comments: 12
Kudos: 138





	but you've lost all your past

**Author's Note:**

> hello :)
> 
> trigger warnings for language, reference to wilbur's canon death, blood and wound mentions, etc.
> 
> everyone accepting that ghostbur thinks he isn't wilbur and him refusing to listen to their concerns- they just let him off for everything he did when he was alive because he doesn't remember- bugged me. so i fixed it! technoblade talks some sense into him, because i can only see ghostbur accepting that sort of thing when it comes from techno, due to how serious and genuine he is.

"wilbur, listen to me-" phil reaches for ghostbur's shoulder but the ghost pales, forcing their dad's hand to phase straight through him.

ghostbur trembles, "that isn't my name. i'm ghostbur, remember?" he drifts, paces across the floor of techno's house. "wilbur was alivebur and everyone hated him, but everyone likes me. or, i think they do- at least, most people like me."

techno sees the moment his dead brother goes blank again, memory stalling to help him avoid further trauma- to help him avoid thinking about the actions his mind was trying to force him to forget. "what were we talking about?" his eyes shift between techno and phil, pause on tommy stood at the top of the stairs. "you all look sad. here, have some blue!"

phil's fists clench and ghostbur hesitates when the blond man won't take the blue he's trying to shove into his hands. techno notes down the tightness to his dad's jaw, the set to it and the way his teeth grit. he can tell he's going to explode before even he does but he's helpless to stop it.

"i don't want your damn blue!" phil hisses through clenched teeth. he makes to grab for ghostbur again but the ghost goes near invisible and his hands fly straight through his hazy form.

"phil?" ghostbur mumbles at the same time that tommy protests, exhaling a soft, "phil-"

the blond man steps back suddenly and draws up, eyes darting toward tommy. the teen takes another step down, toward the landing, and phil's shoulders drop. "fuck," he breathes, scrubbing at his face with his hands, "you can't keep doing this, wil. how long are you going to pretend to be someone else?"

"wh-" his brother fumbles for words. he phases fully back into view and the gash across his chest, normally dormant, drips phantom blood down his front that never reaches the ground, even when it drops off and falls toward the floorboards. "what? what are you talking about? i'm not- i'm not _pretending_ to be anything, philza minecraft. i'm ghostbur!"

"damnit, wilbur," phil snaps, turning toward the door. "i'm going out. i can't do this right now." the man snags the door handle and steps out.

"phil, where are you going? come on, we can- we can talk this out!" ghostbur follows after phil, stops him in the doorway with hands on his shoulders.

"can we?" the blond man asks sharply, causing the brunet to recoil. "unless you're ready to talk about what you did when you were alive, then there isn't anything to talk about."

"alivebur and i are different people!" ghostbur wails, the echo to his voice ringing across the house. techno winces at the static-y quality to it. "we're different now, why can't you see that? everyone hated alivebur, and then you killed him, and then i came back and i'm not him! maybe he was me at one point, but i'm not- i'm not him!" his pitch rises, whimpers falling out. his death wound is still dripping with phantom blood and techno wonders idly if he will have to clean his floor after this.

phil tugs his shoulder free and stalks out without another word, leaving ghostbur to hover in the doorway, form wavering violently. "tommy, go with him," techno mutters, watching his father's retreating figure through his dead brother's chest.

"but-" the blond starts to protest, but a look at the pig has him slumping, shoulders hunched as he takes the stairs. "fine."

"thank you," techno exhales. he fails to hide a wince when tommy brushes straight through ghostbur's flickering body, taking off across the snow to catch up with phil.

"technoblade," ghostbur whispers, turning to look at him, "why does everyone want me to be alivebur? they all hated him. phil- phil did a good thing, when he stabbed him, i thought. but now they want him to come back and-" the brunet's breath catches, "-and i don't want him to come back. i think he hurt a lot of people, technoblade. he hurt my friends and i don't want him back."

"he.. he did a lot of bad things, ghostbur," techno admits, voice dipping low. he leans back against the wall heavily, tipping his head against the wall. "he hurt a lot of people, you're right. but.. i don't think they want alivebur back. i think they.." he gives a shaky exhale, hand finding the hilt of his sword in a familiar, comforting motion.

"i think they just want you to understand what you did when you were alive, ghostbur. as different as you are now, you were still wilbur at one point. you still are wilbur." techno's eyes find his brother again and the ghost is frozen, ghostly form splintering and then stitching itself back together just as fast. "i want to keep you safe, ghostbur, and i thought letting you keep pretending was the best way to do that. but now- now i'm seeing that maybe it wasn't."

"letting you pretend to be someone else is hurting others again," he mutters. ghostbur's mouth parts and he clutches a lump of blue between his fingers, squeezes so hard that it phases straight through his hand and hits the floor with a soft thump.

"what-.. what are you saying, technoblade?" ghostbur whispers loudly, drifting away from the (still) open door.

"i'm saying that phil is right. you can't keep pretending that you and alivebur weren't the same person. the reason they're so upset is because alivebur hurt them and you _are_ alivebur. ghostbur and alivebur and wilbur, it's all the same person." he hesitates, then shakes his head. it's best, if he's got to be the one to knock some sense into his brother, to just rip the band-aid off. " _you_ hurt them, ghostbur, and you're still hurting them by pretending you didn't hurt them."

ghostbur- wilbur stares at him. his hazy fingers find the front of his sweater and paw at the gash in his front, clutch at his torn sweater and run his fingers along the phantom gash. "but i-" he goes quiet and he goes completely see-through for a moment, then he's back to completely visible again.

"stop joking with me- this is serious!" his brother gives a put-upon laugh that tapers back into silence when he sees that techno isn't laughing. "i've got to- to go. i've got a meeting with tubbo, you know, to discuss my sewer-" wilbur rambles, heads for the exit.

techno can't let him walk away from this again.

"i know you got kicked out, wilbur. i didn't want to have to have this conversation with you but it needs to be said," he interrupts. the ghost stills, completely motionless other than the steady drip of blood that doesn't exist from his front.

"i'm not wilbur-" wilbur tries lamely.

"you are," techno retorts softly. "you're hurting people, wilbur. you can't keep pretending to be someone else, someone innocent. just like i'm guilty of creating those withers in l'manberg, and killing all of the people i have, you're guilty of blowing up l'manberg. you can't keep ignoring it."

wilbur whimpers pitifully. he looks tiny, curling into himself with his knees to his chest. techno can't believe he let it go this far; he thought he'd been keeping him safe by letting him pretend to be ghostbur, but he'd really just been letting him hurt more- and hurt everyone around him.

".. i don't want to hurt anyone, technoblade," wilbur rasps. his voice is small, the echo to it almost inaudible. "i don't want to hurt anyone anymore."

"then you need to stop pretending to be ghostbur and not wilbur," techno advises, stepping away from the wall to grasp his brother's shoulder. the brunet's eyes dart up and he surveys techno's face, meets his eyes and scans his expression. he's entirely serious and wilbur's face falls when he sees that.

"i hurt them all a lot, didn't i?" the ghost whispers. his corporeal form doesn't waver but his death wound flows freely with blood that runs down his front and drips off, falling to the ground with a 'tip tip tip' sound. it puddles on the floor and techno inhales sharply.

"you did, but it isn't my place to tell you about any of it. you didn't really hurt me. but phil and tommy? tubbo? fundy?" the pig shakes his head. "you have a lot to talk about with a lot of people."

his yellow sweater doesn't stain at all and the blood seems to flow right off of him, like rain on a window, he thinks. carefully, techno wraps his arms around his brother as he uncurls. it's awkward, but not uncomfortable, as wilbur lets his head drop to his shoulder. techno's clothes are stained with red when he pulls away but he's cleaned a lot worse (a lot more) out of his clothes in the past.

"we should give phil time to cool down," techno suggests idly. his brother fidgets, fingers twitching.

"okay," he settles on after a long, long pause.

"you aren't going to pretend to be just ghostbur anymore," the pig mutters, "and you aren't going to run away from the tough conversations, even if they make you uncomfortable- especially not if they make you remember."

"i'm hurting people, and the only way to make sure i stop hurting them is to acknowledge what i did as aliveb- when i was alive. and to.. and to stop trying to be someone different," wilbur murmurs. his voice still echoes, but it's less noticeable now. "i don't remember now, but i can talk with the people i've hurt and then i'll remember, and then i can fix things."

it's quiet for a moment, other than the gradually slowing 'tip tip tip' of the blood puddle growing larger under wilbur- though the blood flow is beginning to staunch itself now. "why don't we go find friend? we can hang out while we wait for phil and tommy to get back," techno suggests, noting the anxious, worried shift to his dead brother.

"really?" wilbur's smile is slight but he's a little brighter now, a little happier. "i think i remember where i left him. we can bring him back here, too, that way i can.. i can talk to phil and tommy. he'll help me remember, i think. and if they get sad, or if i get sad, we can touch his coat. it's blue and soft- it'll help."

"sure thing, wilbur," techno murmurs, stifling a soft chuckle. he thinks they're taking a step in the right direction- now that wilbur seems to understand, they can all start to heal.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed!! <3
> 
> if you've got any ideas for things you'd like to see me write, please comment! i enjoy writing other people's ideas and often can't come up with my own ideas i'd like to write. 
> 
> (i can't guarantee 100% i'll write it, but if i like it, i most likely will).


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